Blood Is Thicker Than Bone
by Lobisomen616
Summary: Ainz Ooal Gown, the Crimson King of Nazarick, is a controversial figure. By some, he is worshiped as a god of unfathomable power and wisdom. Others revile him as a monster and a tyrant bent on conquering the world, or worse. But none can deny his impact on the world. This is his story. VampAinz AU.
1. Prologue

Pain split across her back and she felt warmth and life slowly leaving her body. The feeling brought her incredible level of despair. She knew she didn't have the strength to keep running, and even if she did, the wound would soon take its toll and make all her effort pointless.

It was in this moment that Enri Ermot realized that she was about to die.

All she could do now was hope that what little time and vitality she had left would be enough for her sister Nemu to get away. At most she would probably be able to buy her another minute to get away, and that was if her body didn't give out on her or she didn't lose consciousness. Still, this would be her only shot, and every second she bought for her sister would up her chances of survival exponentially.

Enri stole a glance at the knight, who's sword was already raised and ready to come down again. Even a young woman like her, who had only seen a sword a handful of times in her life, could tell that his grip was sloppy, like he was holding a club instead of a blade. Regardless of his lack of form, it made things significantly harder on her.

A slash would do a lot of damage; cut muscle, sever tendons, and break bones. Oh well. She would have to make do regardless. She had no other choice. Time slowed to a crawl as she waited for the inevitable, and her one and only chance, to come... but it never did.

" **[Gate]**."

With that one word, a faint whispering echo that could barely be heard amidst the distant sounds of carnage raging on in the village, time actually seemed to freeze entirely. The air itself went still and everything became deafeningly quiet, as if the world itself had become paralyzed with fear. Glancing behind her, she saw the knight's blade still hung in the air and his eyes were widened, and even Enri, someone who had abandoned all fear of death just a moment before for the sake of a loved one, felt chills down her spine. She dared to look away, to see what could have caused one of the marauders slaughtering her village to become so stricken with fear.

In an instant, she realized it.

Before them was a shimmer in the air, and at the center of it was mass of writhing shadows. Like hands upon an ethereal doorway, they parted the air and created an endless black space that could only be described as abysmal. From the nothingness, a looming figure stepped forth. At first it was only a shadow, somehow cast upon the darkness itself, but it quickly took on a far more discernible form.

Out of the portal came a tall man wearing a long, billowing coat, dyed the color of freshly spilled blood. Beneath that, he wore a black robe, etched in gold and with a white bosom tied down by a simple red knot, and a set of blindingly white gloves on each hand.

Her eyes drifted up towards his face, and before her was a vision.

His skin was beautifully pale, contrasted by a pitch mustache and fresh stubble that grew from ear to ear. The features of his face, while impassive, were sharp and pristinely handsome, as if they had been frozen at the absolute prime of life, and all framed by a gorgeously wild mane as black as the shadows he had come from. But what struck her most were his eyes.

Two pools of red that seemed ablaze with fire. They were beautiful and stunning to be sure, but only so long as their gaze was directed elsewhere; a fact she became all too aware of.

The towering figure, still wreathed in billowing shadow, regarded her with those burning eyes of his. In that moment, Enri felt a crushing pressure unlike anything she had ever experienced before. All the air in her lungs left her, her heart seemed to stop, and her mind went blank. The world, the knight, even her precious sister, all ceased to exist; all that was left was her and this terrifying visage she had locked eyes with. It was a moment that seemed to stretch on into eternity.

 _This is Death._ Those were her thoughts, and perhaps they were the only thoughts she could form in her current state. In an instant, she came to regard the man before her as nothing less than an embodiment of Death itself, come to whisk her soul away to whatever afterlife awaited her.

And just like that, an eternity passed in an instant. The crushing gaze had turned away from her and she was only left mildly shell-shocked by the experience; something that served well to distract her from the gaping wound still on her back. Instead Death had shifted his focus away from her and towards the knight behind her. And that was when it occurred to her:

 _I'm still alive, so why is Death here for me now? And why is the knight able to see him too?_

The only answer she received was a wail, and she was not sure from whom it came. Her? Her sister? The knight? It didn't matter. A gloved hand extended past her and towards the knight behind her, fingers outstretched as though reaching for something.

She wanted to look back, but fear kept her eyes from going any farther than the outstretched hand in front of her. She wasn't sure why, but she felt that if she turned any more, the sight that would greet her would be far more gruesome.

" **[Grasp Heart]**."

With that dreadful statement, Death clenched his fist. What followed was the sound of crunching metal; something Enri had never heard before in her lifetime, but still recognized nonetheless.

Against what might have been her better judgement, she let her eyes drift away to where the knight had been standing. He was laying on the ground, limbs splayed and blood pooling out from his helmet.

He was dead. She had no doubt about this.

In any other circumstance, Enri might have cried out with joy. The knight who had been chasing her and Nemu was dead. Her wound was still a concern, but at the very least her little sister could run to safety, and that was what mattered. But this was not the time for such celebration. Death was still there, and she could feel his eyes on her again.

She turned and saw him looming over her, drawing ever closer. Once again, the world around her began to fade away. Rather than face that terror again, she shut her eyes as tight as she could and once again made to shield her frightened sister, who held on to her even tighter.

It felt terrible, knowing that no matter what she did it wouldn't be enough to protect her sister. With the knights it was a different story. Much as she was loathe to admit it, they were human. Even if they weren't, they were still flesh and blood; something she could struggle and fight against with some slim chance of success. But against this man, this _thing_ that could just reach out and take life with a gesture? She didn't have a prayer. She could only hope that Death would be kind to them.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and then-

* * *

 **Author's Note:** And that's it for this little teaser. This is my first project here on FanFiction, and I'm hoping to make it something memorable, so wish me luck with that, because I could really use it. I'll be using this to test the waters and familiarize myself with the site's features and see if there'll be any hiccups in the transference process, and I'll (hopefully) be able to post the first proper chapter by the end of the month. Until then, enjoy this fragmentary piece of crap.

Also I'd like to give a quick shout-out to a few of the many, MANY wonderful authors out there that inspired me to start doing this:

 **KhaosKhan** , whose story ' **The Overlord of Blood and Bones'** was my original inspiration for this.

 **lalunaticscribe,** the author of **'Hostis Humani Generis'** and one of the best writers I've ever seen on this site, with 100 stories under her belt.

 **ainzOoalGo,** the author of **'Light's downfall',** one of the best Overlord AUs available at the moment in my humble opinon and a brilliant writer in his own regard.

And finally, the legend himself, **Maruyama Kugane!** The author of Overlord and the reason why this particular plane of existence even exists in the first place. May he grow rich and famous for all he has done for us for many years to come. Amen, Hallelujah, and Peanut Butter.


	2. Chapter 1

"I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." - _The Road Not Traveled_ , Robert Frost.

* * *

At the center of the room sat a large and magnificent table. It was a perfect circle of obsidian, surrounded by 41 luxurious yet identical seats. However, most of them were empty. In the past, they may have been filled, but now only two of them were occupied now.

The first of these occupants was an amorphous pile of purple-black goo that was constantly flowing and changing shape, like a shark that kept swimming for fear of suffocation. There were no discernible features on it's body, save a particularly arranged concentration of slime that gave the illusion of a front.

The second occupant was decisively more human, and far more detailed than his companion.

He was a pale, red-eyed man with long black hair, a mustache and light stubble combo, and a stony expression that bordered on a scowl. His attire consisted of an open crimson coat over a set of black robes, with a white bosom and a large red cravat acting as a tie. On his hands were two gloves, both of which had elaborate red sigils on their backs.

The former was an [Elder Black Ooze], an intelligent variant of the [Slime] race dreaded for having the most powerful corrosive abilities of its kind, while the latter was a [No-Life King], the highest order of the [Vampire] race known for its incredible stamina and combat abilities.

One would expect these creatures to be high-end dungeon monsters, and dangerous ones at that.

Elder Black Oozes had rather weak offensive capabilities, but their naturally large HP pools, high reistance to physical attacks, and ability to degrade any equipment that they came in contact with made them a huge threat since fighting even a single one could become a costly endeavor.

No-Life Kings, like all vampires, had several major vulnerabilities and weaknesses, the most notable being sunlight, but in exchange they had resistances to most other forms of damage, high overall stats, and many powerful abilities. This combination of incredible strengths and weaknesses made them extremely formidable, yet ultimately balanced opponents, even if the unprepared might argue otherwise.

However, these were not monsters.

...Well, to be more accurate, they weren't monsters in the typical RPG usage of the term. They were players who had chosen one of the monster races, the so-called 'heteromorphic races', as their avatars.

The respective names of the slime and vampire were [Herohero] and [Momonga]. Right now, they were in the guildhall of [Ainz Ooal Gown], located deep within a dungeon called the [Great Tomb of Nazarick] that the guild had claimed as its own shortly after its founding. Needless to say they were both members of said guild, with the latter being the original and _only_ guildmaster Ainz Ooal Gown had to date.

The two inhuman players began to talk, though neither one moved their mouths. Herohero for the obvious reason of not having a mouth, or anything analogous to a mouth for that matter, and Momonga for the simple fact that the technology just wasn't there to animate any form of facial expression, even in a game as advanced as YGGDRASIL.

"It's really been a while Herohero-san. Although it's YGGDRASIL's last day, I honestly didn't expect you to show up."

"I agree. It's been quite a while, Momonga-san."

Where Momonga was almost giddy, Herohero sounded tired and defeated, with no vigor to speak of in his voice. In a way, his exhausted voice suited his shapeless avatar quite well.

"You stopped coming online after you changed your job IRL, so it's been about... two years?"

"Ah, that sounds about right... Wow, it's been that long already... I've been doing so many overtime shifts recently my sense of time is starting to get weird."

"That's not a good sign. Are you alright?"

"Physically? I'm in complete rags. It hasn't gotten to the point where I need to see a doctor, but I may have to if it gets any worse. I want to just run away and start somewhere else, but then I remember have to earn money to make ends meet, so I'm working for dear life while being whipped like a slave."

"Wow..."

The conversation continued in this direction, eventually becoming a one-sided rant on Herohero's part about the suffering he had to put up with at his job. Long hours, late nights, unreasonable deadlines and quotas, incompetent subordinates, and superiors that expected him to practically run the company on his own while they sat on their asses taking all the glory for his hard work. This was the norm for members of Ainz Ooal Gown, many of whom had similar, if not outright identical stories. Such was to be expected when one of the requirements to joining the guild was to be a working member of society, and it was an accepted part of life in the guild.

After a good amount of time, the long list of grievances leaving Herohero's metaphorical mouth finally came to a halt.

"...Sorry for all of that. I don't get much chance to vent on the other side, so..."

"It's okay, Herohero-san. After all, I was the one who asked you to come, even though you were so exhausted."

Herohero gave a weak laugh, sounding slightly more energetic than he had been earlier, though that was not saying much. "Thank you very much Momonga-san. I'm glad that I logged in and got to meet up after all this time."

"I'm glad to hear you say that."

"...But I'm afraid it's about time for me to log off." Herohero began to move one of his tentacles around in the air, no doubt operating his personal console.

"Ah, you're right. It's getting prety late.

"I'm sorry about this, Momonga-san."

Momonga sighed, trying to bury the emotions that were welling up inside him. "I see. That's a shame. Honestly, fun times fly by so fast..."

"I really did want to stay with you until the end, but I'm so exhausted I'm about to fall asleep right now."

"Well, you do sound pretty tired. You should log out and get some rest."

"I'm really sorry, Momonga-san... So, Guildmaster, how long do you plan to stay?"

"I was planning to stay on until I was automatically logged out when the servers shut down. Who knows? Someone else might show up to say their goodbyes at the last minute, so I may as well take the opportunity to greet them one last time."

"Is that so... Still, I didn't expect this place to be so well taken care of."

It was at this point Momonga was glad facial expressions couldn't be replicated in YGGDRASIL; the grimace on his face would've surely given away how he felt at a glance. He closed his mouth tight to keep his voice from doing what his avatar's features were incapable of.

Momonga had desperately maintained the guild because it was here that he had forged so many precious memories with his friends. It was only natural that he would be overwhelmed by mixed sentiments when one of those same friends said such things. However, what Herohero said next instantly removed all of the resentment and outrage that had been building inside him.

"As the guildmaster, you kept this place going so that we could return to it any time. For that you have my thanks, Momonga-san."

"...We all built this together, and from the beginning it was my job to take care of it. If I didn't do at least that much, then I wouldn't be able to call myself guildmaster."

"Yeah, it was thanks to you being our guildmaster that we were all able to enjoy this game so much. I hope we could all meet again in YGGDRASIL II."

"I haven't heard anything about a second game, but like you said, I'd be glad if we could meet like that."

"Then let's meet again when the time comes! I'm having trouble staying awake... I think I'll log off now. I'm glad I got to meet you before the end. Goodnight, Momonga-san."

For a moment, Momonga couldn't bring himself to say anything, but in the end he still managed to give his friend his final words.

"I was to happy to meet up with you too. Goodnight."

Herohero flashed Momonga a smiling emoticon and Momonga returned the gesture in kind as Herohero spoke his last.

"Let's meet again in a different place."

And with that the slime vanished, leaving Momonga by himself. Of the few remaining guild members that had logged on today, he was the last. Now that he was alone, Momonga could finally speak the words he had been keeping to himself all this time.

"You know, today's the last day of the game. I know you're tired, but we'll never have a chance like this again, so why don't we stay together until the end..."

He couldn't have brought himself to say it to Herohero, no matter how desperately he wanted to. It would have been a selfish thing to ask anyways, but after seeing just how exhausted his friend really was he completely lost the resolve to make that last little selfish request. It would be unreasonable to trouble his friend by asking such a thing.

And that's when Herohero's last words finally sank in.

 _Let's meet again..._

The words repeated, again and again, slightly different but still the same each time. He had heard them so many times from his friends, but they had never come true. No one had ever returned to YGGDRASIL.

"When and where will we meet again-"

Momonga's shoulders shook violently as rage flooded his mind and the last dam that had been holding back his deepest feelings and the words tied to them for so long finally burst.

"-Are you kidding me?!" With a great and furious shout, Momonga slammed his fist down on the table, a '0' appearing to indicate that the piece of furniture had taken no damage; something that would be amusing in a less somber scenario.

"This is the Great Tomb of Nazarick that we all built together! How could you give it up so easily?!"

Once the anger flowed from his mouth, all that was left was a deep feeling of emptiness.

"No... No, that's not it. Everyone had their own responsibilities, their own lives to go back to at the end of the day. There were no betrayals, just a painful choice between 'reality' and 'fantasy'. I was just the one who held on to the 'fantasy' the longest..."

As Momonga trailed off, muttering persuasive words to himself in order to soothe his rage and guilt, he stood and went off to one end of the room, where a golden staff in the shape of seven entwined serpents, each holding a brilliant gem in their mouths, floated in a lonely alcove.

This was the [Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown], the very symbol of the guild.

"We sacrificed so much to make this. Some people came in after grueling days at work, some wound up fighting with their wives about how they were neglecting their families, and some laughed and said they had taken special leave or called in sick; all to get the materials to make this one item."

Though it had been custom made for Momonga to wield, both as a mage and as guildmaster, he had never equipped it. If a guild weapon was stolen or destroyed then the guild would be automatically dissolved, and so it remained in the guildhall, deep within Nazarick where none could claim it. As such, Momonga had never even considered the idea of taking the staff for himself. He had always believed in a majority vote, and he knew the majority would never risk the existence of their entire guild just so he could show off a bit.

Even so, he did not want to leave this magnificent treasure here as a testament to how the golden time of Ainz Ooal Gown had come and gone. Part of him still had reservations against taking it of course, but now he was the only one left now. No one was left to second the motion or deny it.

"This is a pretty sad state of affairs..."

Still, it was the last day, so what harm was there in him being selfish and unreasonable now?

The staff levitated from its place in the wall over to his hand and, as he held it by its crystalline grip and equipped it, Momonga marveled at the sudden rise in his stats and the cosmetic effect of blackened souls flying away from the staff, screaming soundlessly in agony.

"Well then, shall we go symbol of our guild? No, that's not right... Let's go, symbol of _my_ guild."

Satisfied that he had found the right words for the occasion, cringe-inducing as they may have been, Momonga left the meeting room with staff in hand. As he strolled down the halls of the 9th Floor of Great Tomb on his way to the 10th Floor, he was greeted with the sight of an approaching maid darting to one side to make way for him and bowing respectfully. Out of reflex he raised his hand to acknowledge her, knowing full well he wouldn't get a response from her.

This NPC, this well-crafted, automated doll in the shape of a bowing maid, was one of 41 that had been meticulously created by [Whitebrim], a guild member whose artistic talent and attention to detail had landed him a job as a famous mangaka. Momonga recalled how when other guild members who worked on the designs for the maids complained about the excessive level of detail he put into them, Whitebrim would defend it by saying 'A maid's uniform is their best weapon!'

 _Ah, that's right. I think it was from there that he started saying things like 'Maid uniforms are justice!' Come to think of it, I think the manga he's drawing has a maid as a main character. Do his assistants cry when he goes overboard on the designs? Ah, Whitebrim-san..._

The maid's AI had also been programmed by Herohero and five other guild members. In other words, this maid was a personification of his past friends' hard work. He could not simply walk by and ignore her, because she was also a part of the glorious history of Ainz Ooal Gown.

As Momonga contemplated these matters, the maid raised her head and tilted it in a show of surprise. This was a programmed action that the maids would perform if anyone lingered around them for longer than a certain period of time. As much as he wanted to continue and admire the elaborate program Herohero had designed, Momonga knew he was pressed for time.

"Thank you for your hard work."

The maid gave no response as Momonga walked away , but even so he felt it was necessary. Even if the maid couldn't reply, saying farewell to her would at least honor those who had put so much of their heart and soul into creating her.

* * *

Before long, Momonga entered a large receiving room at the entrance to the 10th Floor and was greeted by the sight of an elderly and distinguished looking gentlemen in a butler suit, shadowed by six unique and highly customized maids that were very different from the one he had passed upstairs.

 _Ah, the Pleiades Combat Maids and... what was his name again?_ Momonga used the staff to bring up the NPC's information. _'[Sebas Tian]'. Ah, that's right. He was Touch Me-san's creation wasn't he? Looks just like him, if you put him in a suit and added a decade or two._

Momonga chuckled to himself at the thought and how true it actually was. [Touch Me] had been one of his closest friends in Ainz Ooal Gown and they had actually spoken to one another in person once before. Unfortunately the two did not live very close to one another, so their primary means of interaction had always been through YGGDRASIL.

 _Come to think of it, I haven't spoken to Touch-san in quite a while. I should call him tomorrow, see how him and his wife are doing._

Filing that thought away for later, he issued the command for the NPCs to follow him as he continued on his way. Today was the final day and he hadn't really exercised his powers as guildmaster up until this point, so why not give the NPCs something to do for once?

When he reached a large, dome-shaped hall known as the Lemegeton, Momonga could not help but marvel at the architecture that Lucifer, another guild member, had put so much work into, even if he had quit before putting the last few golem-statues in. Momonga also couldn't help but worry that his guildmate had hidden some kind of nasty trick in his work that could activate at any time, as he was a notorious and very malicious prankster.

 _Lucifer-san, if you pull something like that on today, of all days, I'm going to be_ _ **really**_ _angry..._

With NPCs still in tow and great apprehension towards the various carvings in the room, particularly two statues that were acting as doormen to the gargantuan entrance to the Throne Room, Momonga anxiously waited for the door to be opened, only relaxing when he was absolutely certain that nothing was trying to kill him. Upon entering he was greeted with the awe-inspiring sight of a massive hall that dwarfed the already large Lemegeton several times over and could have accommodated hundreds, if not thousands of people.

This was supposed to be the grand stage for Ainz Ooal Gown's final stand, where they would either repel the invaders or go out in a blaze of glory. That battle had never come, but that was ultimately a good thing. Momonga knew that this place, a testament to the glory of Ainz Ooal Gown, was where he wanted to be for YGGDRASIL's final moments.

As he drunk in every detail of the room, Momonga's eyes wandered to a female NPC standing beside the [Throne of Kings], the centerpiece of the room.

Alabaster skin, raven hair, golden eyes, and a sweet, motherly smile that looked as if it had been plucked from the face of a goddess, all brought together by a magnificent white dress and a gold necklace reminiscent of a spiderweb. Were these things taken on their own, one would certainly believe that this was an angel or goddess, but the curved horns sprouting from the sides of from her head, the vertically-slit pupils in her eyes, and the black wings emerging from her waist told a different story.

This was [Albedo], the Overseer of the Seven Floor Guardians and the final defense against any who attempted to invade the Great Tomb of Nazarick. However, no invaders to date had come even remotely close to encountering her. In a way, it was a shame that she had never seen combat since her creator, [Tabula Smaragdina], had put so much effort into her design.

Just as Momonga was about to slip into his memories once again, he caught sight of something that instantly brought him back to reality. In Albedo's gloved hands was a black wand. While he could not recall its name at that exact moment, Momonga recognized it as one of the powerful World Items that Ainz Ooal Gown had collected over the years.

[World Items] were so valuable, their power so great, that entire guilds would be willing to bankrupt themselves over them, one way or another. Ainz Ooal Gown had a sizeable collection of these powerful treasures, the most of any guild in fact, but even so their usage was not made lightly. Any action taken with one of them was decided on by majority vote. Anyone caught selfishly using a World Item would be undoubtedly shunned and ostracized by the rest of the guild, and it was this unspoken threat that kept anyone from doing it.

And yet, he had done it anyways. True, the item had not actually been used, only equipped, and by an NPC that ultimately never saw usage in battle, but he had still done so without permission from Momonga or the rest of the guild. By all rights, Momonga should have been angry over his friend's antics, and while he was somewhat agitated, he could only smirk at the idea.

The how and why didn't really matter; Tabula Smagdarina had managed to claim a World Item as his own and pass it on to one of his own creation and only now, in YGGDRASIL's twilight moments, had it been revealed. It was so audacious, so praiseworthy, Momonga didn't even consider taking the item from Albedo. Instead, he just laughed at this one last joke from his old friend.

"Tabula-san, you crazy bastard..."

After catching his breath Momonga made his way closer to the throne, only to realize that he was still being followed by seven extra pairs of feet. He turned and gave the command for Sebas and the Pleiades to stay behind before ascending to the throne. Then his attention returned to Albedo, whose eyes were now following him; a feature he did not recall from his previous visits. This new information piqued his curiousity.

 _What kind of backstory was she designed with?_

Opening the console to view Albedo's detailed settings, Momonga was greeted with an epic poem's worth of text that would take the better part of an afternoon to read through; time that he simply did not have, much to his chagrin. Skimming through everything the Setting Maniac had written, he came to the last entry in her settings and for a moment Momonga's brain refused to comprehend what was in front of him:

 **[She is also a slut.]**

 _...Huh?_ And then, the words finally came through. With a very loud shout. "What the hell is this?!"

Over and over again he read the words, trying to give Tabula the benefit of the doubt, but try as he might the context was unmistakable and Momonga was forced to accept it... no matter how much he didn't want to. Albedo, the Overseer of the Guardians and highest ranking NPC in the Great Tomb of Nazarick was...

"A slut... As in, a person with excessive sexual desires?" A gloved hand promptly met Momonga's face with a rather audible impact that echoed throughout the massive hall.

"I knew Tabula-san was crazy about character dissonance, but isn't this going overboard?"

For a minute, Momonga pondered the moral dilemma placed before him. Was it right for him to change the meticulously crafted of one of his friends precious creations, even if it was to alter something as outrageous as this?

It was then, as his consciousness flopped about in a small sea of pro and cons, that a mischievous thought crept into his mind.

 _Well, he_ _ **did**_ _give her a World Item without permission... I guess it would be a fitting punishment since he's not here._

With an unseen and rather sly grin, Momonga used his privilege as guildmaster to remove the ridiculous line of text from Albedo's settings, but just as he was about to close the console and be done with it once and for all he stopped and stared at the blank space. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided on what to put in that spot.

 **[She is madly in love with Momonga.]**

 _Ah, so embarrassing!_ Again, a hand met his face, though this time the invisible shit-eating grin was still there. He was punishing himself for taking the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, for bossing around the NPCs, and for changing the settings that one of his guildmates had so painstakingly created, but even so he couldn't help but find the whole thing amusing.

"I guess we've _both_ atoned for our sins now, haven't we Tabula-san?" Momonga had a laugh as he sat himself on the throne and commanded the NPCs to kneel.

He looked around the grand hall, at the banners that decorated the walls, at the NPCs his friends had created, and he felt a sense of peace. Even if his friends couldn't make it in these final moments, they were still with him in spirit through the things they had left behind.

Momonga raised a hand and pointed to a banner; his banner.

"That's me; [Momonga]." From there, he went down the line, calling out the names of his friends as he did.

"[Touch Me], [Shi-juuten Suzaku], [Ankoro Mocchi Mochi], [Herohero], [Peroroncino], [Bukubukuchagama], [Tabula Smaragdina], [Warrior Takemikazuchi], [Variable Talisman], [Genjiro]..." He kept on until he had listed off every single one of his 40 guildmates, whose names were so deeply engraved into his memories that he could recall them without the slightest effort.

Momonga leaned back into his seat, a forlorn and tired sigh escaping his unmoving lips.

"Yeah, it was really fun..."

After eyeing the in-game clock, which was at approximately 23:57, Momonga began to count the seconds left until the game was over for good.

 _Tomorrow I'll have to get up at 4 AM. I need to go to sleep right after the shutdown, otherwise my performance at work will suffer._

 **[23:59:35. 36, 37...]** And so it continued until, at the ten second mark, Momonga shut his eyes and waited...

 **[23:59:55, 56, 57]** For the end of both the virtual world and this chapter of his life...

 **[0:00:00... 1, 2, 3]**

"Hm?"

Much to his surprise, when Momonga opened his eyes he found that he was still in the Throne Room and not back in his room in real life.

It was definitely past midnight. Even if a system error had caused the clock to get thrown off at the last moment, Momonga's own sense of time told him that they had most certainly gone past the cutoff point.

"What's going on? Did they delay the shutdown? Or were they not able to shut down the server in time?"

Confused, Momonga tried to use the chat channels to see if there had been an announcement from one of the GMs about a system error or something that he might have missed only to come to a startling realization.

There was no control interface.

"What the...?"

[Forced System Access], [Chat], [Call GM], [Log Out]; all of them were not working. More specifically, he could not access any of them, or any part of the control interface for that matter. There was no HUD visible either.

To his credit Momonga did not panic, which greatly surprised him on a subconscious level. Of course, he felt a certain level of anxiety from not knowing what was going on, but oddly enough he was more irritated than anything.

For something like this to happen on the final day, after he had finally made peace with the idea of having to quit YGGDRASIL and was ready to go out in style... Had the developers actually tricked everyone?

That thought, that singular notion of being tricked, of being toyed with, sent Momonga over the edge. An outrageous shout bellowed from his lungs, as if he was trying to shake the very foundations of the Great Tomb with his voice alone.

"What the hell is going on?!" Had he not been caught up in his own fury, Momonga may have noticed how different his voice sounded at that moment.

However...

"Is everything alright, Momonga-sama?" Regardless of whether or not he could recognize the change in his own voice, he _did_ recognize this voice, at least in a denotative sense. It was a sweet and feminine voice that he had never heard before, but he recognized its existence and the fact that he had not been expecting it.

Shocked by this unexpected response, Momonga scanned the room looking for its source.

"Momonga-sama?" This time he caught the direction of the voice. It was right in front of him. It was...

Albedo.

...

The sheer amount of mental processes currently going through Momonga's mind managed to completely short-circuit his brain, causing him to stare at the newly-vocal NPC like a fresh lobotomy patient, even as she came closer and closer to him, continuing to ask him questions. Once she drew close enough, a pleasant fragrance wafted into his nostrils, somehow managing to restore his mental faculties and returning his ability to think.

"No... No, nothing is wrong." Every rational part of Momonga's mind said that he shouldn't need to make that response, that this conversation shouldn't even be happening. NPCs weren't supposed to be able to talk, and even if they could they shouldn't be able to recognize a player by name.

Such a thing should have brought him to the verge of hysterics, but even so he remained surprisingly calm despite the fact his brain was having a hard time processing the information. The subconscious questioning of this fact brought up an old memory.

 _Panic is the seed of defeat, so you must maintain your calm and think logically. Remain calm, look beyond your surroundings, and don't waste your effort on unnecessary details, Momonga-san._

The recollection of these sagely words allowed Momonga to slowly regain his composure and think more clearly, and as he did he thanked Punitto Moe, the 'Zhuge Liange' of Ainz Ooal Gown.

"Is something the matter?" This time, Momonga was much more aware. He was aware of the subtle movements of Albedo's face and how disturbingly real they were, of the gentle breaths of warm of air leaving her mouth. He was also aware of how close her face was to him. This realization caused his pule to rise and he had to do his best to contain himself, though what exactly he was trying to contain was currently beyond the scope of his mind, which was preoccupied with trying to make sense of the situation at hand.

"...The GM Call function does not seem to be working." Momonga had said this with the intent of buying himself time, but then his own words rang in his ears.

His voice had suddenly become much deeper, and it sounded quite suave and charismatic, a far cry from the voice he was so accustomed to hear coming out of his own mouth. In fact, it sounded much older than his usual voice and...

Momonga shook his head once again. Now was not the time to be analyzing his voice, no matter how cool it may or may not have sounded.

"...Please forgive my ignorance, but I do not know what a 'GM Call' is. I apologize for not being able to meet your expectations. If the Supreme One will allow it, I would like to atone for this mistake. So please, command me as you see fit."

The absurdity of having a conversation with an NPC was not lost on Momonga. He needed to verify whether or not this bizarre phenomenon was exclusive to Albedo. With a wave of his hand he dismissed her, much to her disappointment, and turned his attention to the other NPCs in the room that were still kneeling before him.

"Sebas! Maids!"

"Yes!" As one, they raised their heads and spoke in chorus.

"Approach the throne."

"Understood." As commanded, they rose and advanced before returning to their kneeling posture in front of the throne.

Not only were the NPCs able to speak just like Albedo, they were also able to recognize non-standard verbal commands. They were also able to so in an intelligent manner, as if they could read between the lines and understand the intent of his words rather than just the literal meaning. This was an anomaly unto itself, but Momonga sensed that there was even more amiss. He directed his attention back to Albedo and stared at her intensely, much to her distress.

"I-Is something wrong? Have I made a mistake..?"

It was in this moment that Momonga realized a glaring and basic detail about the situation that he had completely overlooked and taken as a given. He brought a hand to his face and felt something he should never have been able to in YGGDRASIL.

"Impossible..."

His mouth was moving, just like the NPCs' had this entire time.

This revelation was rightly terrifying as it challenged one of the most funamental aspects of YGGDRASIL; the idea that appearances, no matter how customizable they may be, were fixed and could not be changed dynamically to achieve real time facial expressions. However, while that sense of fear and worry still remained in his being, it was overwhelmed by fascination towards the unprecedented phenomenon that were being laid out before him.

Recalling what had happened back in the guildhall, he raised a hand and slammed it down onto the arm of the throne. This time, there was no damage indicator.

"Interesting..." The revelations being presented to him gave Momonga the urge to experiment, to see how far he could push things in this situation and thus have a better understanding of just what was going on. He directed his attention to the head butler and spoke with the tone of a confident and commanding superior, something that came surprisingly easy to him.

"Sebas." The NPC's head rose once again, with an earnest expression that caught Momonga's eye. It was just so... human.

"Exit the Tomb and investigate the surrounding region. If you encounter any intelligent creatures, interact peacefully with them and invite them to the Tomb. Accommodate the other party as much as possible during negotiations. You are not to stray more than one kilometer from the tomb and you are to avoid unnecessary combat. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Momonga-sama. I will do so immediately."

That confirmed that the NPCs were capable of accepting orders that strayed from their original programming, such as leaving the area they were assigned to guard. Whether or not they could actually perform said orders remained to be seen.

"...Select one of the Pleiades to accompany you. If battle begins, you are to retreat immediately and convey everything you have learned."

This was the first step; evaluating the capabilities of the NPCs in this unusual situation.

Momonga let go of the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, which defied the laws of physics by continuing to hang in the air as if someone was still holding it. He paid it no mind as this was a common occurence in YGGDRASIL.

Bringing a hand to his newly rugged face once more, Momonga contemplated his next course of action.

"...I should try and contact the game company."

This was a basic response. In an abnormal situation, the game company would know the most about what was going on. Of course the issue was actually contacting them. If the /shout command and GM call function were no longer viable, then the only remaining course of action would be...

"[Message]?"

It was A communication spell that normally only worked under specific conditions. There was no guarantee that it would work, especially given the extraordinary situation Momonga now found himself in, but he had to try. As a level 100 spellcaster, the inability to cast spells would cause his movement, information-gathering, and combat ability to plummet drastically, so above all else he needed to confirm his own capabilities in the event that he could not recieve outside aid.

 _Now, where can I go to test my magic..._ For a moment, Momonga considered the idea of using the Throne Room as his testing grounds, only to reject the idea almost immediately. It was too serene, too sacred for such disruptive activities. Another, far more suitable location came to mind.

Now, before he set about confirming his own capabilities, he wished to verify one more thing; his authority. He wanted to know if he still retained his powers and privileges as Ainz Ooal Gown's guildmaster.

Until now, the NPCs he had met were loyal to him. However, there were many more NPCs in the Great Tomb, and some were on par with him. He needed to confirm their loyalties as well.

However...

Momonga's eyes glanced over the still kneeling servants before coming to rest on Albedo, who was still beside him.

She was smiling. It was a pretty smile, but it seemed to merely be a cover for something else. What that other something might have been troubled Momonga.

Even if the NPCs were all loyal now, would they remain so? There was a very real possibility that, should he not meet their expectations, they would lose faith in him. There was also the possibility that, being NPCs, they were incapable of such things and that their loyalty was permanent, but if that was _not_ the case and their loyalty _did_ waver then how would he deal with it?

Rewards? The Treasury contained sizable amount of wealth, and though it would pain him greatly to give away the treasures left behind by his former comrades, he had no doubt in his mind that they would understand if it was for the sake of Ainz Ooal Gown. The question would then be, what would constitute a suitable reward? In addition to that, he needed to know if he was superior to others simply due to his high level. But then, what criteria could be used to quantify that superiority? The answer to this question eluded him for a time, but before long he came to an answer.

"...Power?" He opened his hand and gripped the returning staff as it sailed into his grasp. "Overwhelming power?"

The gems set into the staff gleamed, as though begging for their master to put their colossal power to use. Momonga did not consider the staff to be even remotely sentient, though he took this odd occurrence as a sign that he was on the right track.

"Yes..." He almost missed it, but Momonga caught the tone in his voice, the slight tugging of his cheeks, and the feeling welling up inside him just in time. He realized that he was very eager to start testing his abilities and find out just how powerful he was.A bit _too_ eager.

"No, I can't afford to get swept up in the moment. I need to be careful about this." The gems dimmed somewhat, as if it was somewhat disappointed at this demonstration of restraint, but the staff seemed content with the answer. When Momonga released his grip on it once again, it continued to hang in the air next to him.

In any case, acting the part of the leader would be the best course of action for now. So long as he did not reveal any weaknesses any potential enemies would stay their hands, for a while at least.

Once more adopting an authoritative tone, Momonga declared his next orders.

"Pleiades. Apart from the maid that is chosen to accompany Sebas, the rest of you will head to the 9th Floor and repel any invaders from the 8th Floor."

"Understood, Momonga-sama." The maids acknowledged his words, almost reverantly.

"You have your orders. Now go."

"Yes, my lord!" Again, an affirmative chorus rang out from the NPCs and all of them left the Throne Room in a quick and orderly manner to begin their assigned tasks, leaving only Momonga and Albedo, still awaiting her own orders.

"So then, Momonga-sama, what will you have me do next?" Momonga took a moment before coming to a conclusion. He beckoned his staff back to his hand and rose from the throne.

"Come here for a moment, Albedo."

"Yes of course!" With all the eagerness of a pup, Albedo drew towards him with a smile on her face. The black wand and orb in her possession gave him pause, but he suppressed that anxiety before she was within arm's reach.

 _She smells nice..._ Momonga mentally shook his head. Focusing on the task at hand, he reached out and tried to touch Albedo's hand, only to recoil like he had just been shocked by the pained expression that had flashed across her face. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong, only to realize a moment later that one of his skills was active; [Negative Aura]. Or to be more accurate, [Negative Aura I], which was the basic version of the skill.

As the name implied, it projected a constant aura of negative energy that damaged any living creature in close proximity, while simultaneously healing any undead in its AoE, including himself, for the same amount.

"Forgive me Albedo. I forgot to deactivate my aura. Are you alright?"

"Yes of course. I was just caught off guard, that's all. The pain is negligible, and as long as it's for Momonga-sama I would gladly endure any kind of- kya!"

"I-Is that so? Well I-... No, no I must still apologize." The way Albedo had yelped and shyly covered her face had thrown him off, and now she was off in her own little world excitedly mumbling all manner of nonsensical things to herself. As a result, his composure was shaken even further, but at least she had confirmed his suspicions about the skill being the cause of her distress.

 _If that's the case, does that mean she's no longer registered as an ally or has friendly fire been enabled? She hasn't made any aggressive actions towards me, so it's probably the latter. Still..._

The damage caused by [Negative Aura I] may have been negligible for a level 100 NPC like Albedo, but the idea of him causing her physical pain any time he wanted to physically interact with her bothered Momonga. Trouble was, he could not recall the last time he had disabled it, and he wasn't completely sure that he could to begin with. He no longer had a menu of any kind to work with, and skills like this were often intrinsic to high level characters; this one had been active for so long that he had forgotten it even existed. So, if he couldn't turn it off, what would he do if he had to interact with one of the Pleiades or the other low level NPCs in Nazarick?

It was a deeply worrying thought, but that worry passed quickly; the knowledge of how to deactivate the skill came to him as easily as breathing. He willed the aura to deactivate, and it simply did, without even the slightest hint of effort or strain.

Momonga couldn't help but chuckle a bit as he realized how well he was adapting to this bizarre situation after all the shock and surprise he had felt moments earlier. That in and of itself was something of concern, but it was not an urgent matter, much like everything else he had experienced in the last few minutes. And so, all notion of panicking had left his mind.

For now, all he needed to do was evaluate the situation and act accordingly.

"Albedo." The Overseer of the Guardians quickly broke out of her trance. "I'm going to touch you now." Without another word, he grabbed her by the wrist. Part of him wanted to stop and admire her hands, but instead he focused on one thing: her pulse.

He could feel it. The steady twitch of blood flowing through her wrist. And as he felt, he began to hear it as well; faint at first, but with each passing second it grew louder and louder.

 _Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump._ He could hear the sound of her heart beating. To him, it was a clear as a bell being rung right in front of his face. It was a sound that left him in a trance, and as his mind left him, for the most fleeting of moments, he felt an aching thirst in his throat.

He shook himself out of his daze and let go of Albedo's hand. The sound stopped ringing in his ears as he looked to his own hands and removed the gloves he was wearing. They were flesh and blood to be sure, but unlike Albedo's, they were cold and lifeless. He checked his wrist, and found himself to be lacking a pulse.

Ordinarily, such a thing would have left him on the verge of panic. However, he simply registered the fact that his heart wasn't beating, or at least not beating hard enough to be felt, as a simple oddity. It made sense though; vampires were undead, and therefore they lacked any need to eat, sleep, or even breathe. Therefore, it stood to reason that a vampire would not need a heart actively circulating blood through their bodies in order to keep themselves alive.

 _Of course that does beg the question as to why vampires are vulnerable to attacks that damage vital organs like the heart and brain..._ Momonga decided to file that particular train of thought away for later.

He looked back at Albedo and took in all the subtleties of her face. His reflection in her eyes, the subtle shades of pink on her cheeks, the slight twitch of her nose as she breathed.

 _She looks so alive, but that's impossible. She's an NPC in a video game; nothing but a complex series of ones and zeros in an even larger program. But what program could possibly handle all of the data needed to do this? Not the YGGDRASIL I know, that's for sure. And why does it all feel so... real?_

It was a concept Momonga had difficulty accepting. In fact he _couldn't_ accept it. The idea that YGGDRASIL had somehow become a reality was just too outlandish for any reasonable person to be expected to believe. He needed proof; something that would prove beyond any and all forms of doubt that this was not and _could not_ be a video game.

He formed a daring plan; one that could end in eternal shame, horrible bodily injury, or even death, but one that was ultimately necessary to affirm the reality of the current situation. It needed to be done, and if he had to risk having an ungodly powerful item used against him as a consequence then so be it.

"Albedo... M-May I touch your chest?"

"Eh?"

The air seemed to freeze. Albedo seemed perplexed, as if she had heard the question but it hadn't quite registered in her mind. Meanwhile, Momonga was screaming inside the confines of his own mind, with self-depreciating thoughts flooding in like a river.

 _No! No. I know it's despicable of me to take advantage of my authority over Albedo like this, but it's the only sure-fire way for me to figure out what's going on. I have no other options._ Momonga strengthened his resolve to do what he believed was necessary.

"That... should be fine, right?"

Even if he had strengthened his resolve, Momonga was still anxious. He had no idea how Albedo would react. Would she be angry? Disgusted?

"But of course my lord. Please, help yourself as much as you wish."

...Momonga had certainly not been expecting that. Albedo was almost giddy as she presented her ample chest for him to inspect. A part of his brain was once again malfunctioning as he swallowed with an audible gulp, hesitant to continue. However, another part of his brain was calmly and carefully observing the situation, almost as if he was watching someone other than himself. It made him realize how ridiculous this plan of his was and made him question why he was still going through with it.

He glanced at Albedo. She had stars in her eyes, and at the edge of his vision he could see her eagerly jiggling her breasts as if to say, 'hurry up and touch me'. It caused something in his mind to click, and he felt his body acting of its own accord.

With all the steadiness of a well-oiled machine, he reached out. As he made contact, Momonga felt some resistance from something hard under Albedo's dress, but that quickly gave way and his hand felt like was being swallowed by something soft and pleasant.

It was then that Momonga grasped the reality of the situation.

Up until now, he had been set on two possible explanations about the present situation. The first was that he had been seamlessly transitioned from one DMMORPG to another when the server had been shut down; perhaps it was the alpha for the rumored sequel, YGGDRASIL II.

It would have explained much. The developers of YGGDRASIL were considered pioneers of the DMMORPG genre and virtual reality interface, and many DMMOs and other VR games used the framework they had created with YGGDRASIL. However, there were problems with this theory.

What Momonga was doing right now was an R-18 action, which was strictly prohibited. In the interest of public decency and morality, as well as regulations regarding sexual interaction through dive technology, all games that utilized said technology were required to monitor player interaction and take actions to prevent it. YGGDRASIL's developers had a policy of publicly listing the names of any violators on their official website, then deleting their account, which was the norm for such cases. There was also the risk that offenders would face criminal charges if their actions were deemed severe enough by law, which was incentive enough for most people to avoid doing them.

If this was still a game and his actions were being monitored, Momonga would have been prevented from getting his hand anywhere close to Albedo's chest. And yet, he faced no resistance besides that presented by Albedo herself, which wasn't saying much.

Another issue was that forcing someone into a virtual reality game with no way to exit of their own free will was considered a form of cyber-kidnapping. To this end, all virtual reality interfaces were mandated by law to record all activity performed through said interface in the last week, meaning there was one hundred and sixty-eight hours of raw footage and data that could be used as evidence in court if Momonga did not come into work in a few days.

Such a risk _far_ outweighted the benefits of forcing players to partake in a closed alpha or testing potentially faulty third-party programs, which would be tantamount to corporate suicide.

He had also entertained the notion that a third party had been involved and somehow forced him into what essentially amounted to a cyber prison. But then he remembered something:

Albedo's scent.

Well, not exactly. While her smell was certainly very pleasant and memorable, it was not the real crux of the issue. Rather, it was the fact that he could smell _at all_ while supposedly inside of a DMMO.

In accordance with the software legislation regarding virtual reality games, no sensory for taste or smell could be provided to a player, and the sense of touch was heavily limited. This was due to concerns about people having difficulty differentiating between the game and real life; a sentiment that ultimately killed the VR sex industry in its infancy.

However, none of these limitations were in place. Momonga could smell and feel just as much as he could in real life. In fact, all of his senses felt sharper than ever, although he had yet to properly test out his sense of taste.

With all this in mind, there was only one possibility left in Momonga's mind: the game had somehow become real.

It sounded completely and utterly ridiculous, but the simple truth was that it was the only logical conclusion. The technology of the time simply did not permit this level of realism, and even if it did, the resources involved would be staggering. So staggering in fact, it was easier to believe that some freak occurence had caused him to enter a parallel dimension, instead of some unknown group spending enough money to bankrupt an entire country just to cybernetically kidnap a no-name salaryman like himself and trap him in an outrageously high quality simulation... And Momonga wasn't sure how he felt about that.

In fact, he was seriously beginning to question his own sanity at this point, if _these_ were the only logical conclusions he could come up with. But for now, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

Namely that he had continued to absentmindedly grope Albedo throughout his moment of deep contemplation; something he had most assuredly _not_ been doing on purpose or enjoying in any way, shape, or form. At all.

"I'm so sorry Albedo." Under normal circumstances, Momonga would have followed up that statement with an explanation for his actions, like 'I let my mind wander off there for a moment', followed by another apology. However, a deeply sensual moan from Albedo interrupted this usual sequence of events.

She was blushing terribly, and Momonga could practically feel the heat radiating off of her.

"Will I be having my first time here?"

"...Eh?" Much like the line of text he had edited earlier, that question had caught him so off guard Momonga simply could not register the meaning of it within his mind. Meanwhile, Albedo continued, oblivious to Momonga's mental plight.

"May I ask what you want to do with my clothes?

"...Wha?"

"Would it be alright if I took them off myself, or would you like to take them off yourself Momonga-sama? Unless you want us to do it with them on. Of course the dress would get dirty, but if that is what you want then I have no objections." After a moment everything finally clicked back into place and Momonga realized what Albedo had been saying all this time, and he also realized _why_ she was saying it, which only added to his inner turmoil. However, that same conflict within his mind also restored his composure and focus.

"That's enough Albedo. Now is not the time for such things. Or, rather, there really isn't time for it at the moment."

"Ah! M-My apologies! I forgot how urgent the situation was and let my desires get the better of me. Please forgive-" Albedo was quick to try and bow in apology, but Momonga stopped her.

"No, the fault here lies with me. You have nothing to apologize for, but if it helps ease your mind, then you are forgiven all the same. Regardless, I have an order for you." At the mention of those words, Albedo immediately took on the air of a dutiful servant once again, with any lingering feelings of shame or embarrassment being immediately suppressed.

"Please give me any command you desire."

"I want you to go and tell the Guardians of each Floor, except for those on the Fourth and Eighth Floors, to assemble at the Colosseum on the Sixth Floor in an hour's time. I'll be heading there myself shortly, so there is no need for you to inform Aura or Mare."

"Understood. Then I shall go and inform the Guardians to assemble as per you orders."

"Very good. Now be on your way."

"At once, my lord." Albedo quickly made her way out of the Throne Room, though it was not until she had left that Momonga finally allowed himself to relax. He let out a deep sigh, one that betrayed the incredible mental exhaustion he was feeling at the moment. With a deep groan, he wearily sat back down onto the throne, head slumped, and brought his free hand up as if he was experiencing a terrible headache. The Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown leaned at a sharp angle as he allowed the arm holding it to go slack, though his grip on it only tightened.

"What have I done?" In the empty expanse of the Throne Room, his words echoed loudly, only further adding to his lament. "It was just supposed to be a simple joke. But now... Now..." His fingers dug into his scalp. It was difficult to properly describe the swirling mass of negative emotions he was experiencing, but if one were to visualize it then anger, disgust, and guilt could be considered the primary colors of its nebulous composition. And all of it was centered around a single, terrible thought: **_'[She is madly in love with Momonga.]'_**

That one line of edited text. Oh, how it haunted him now.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Tabula-san. I ruined the NPC you worked so hard on..." If anyone had been present, they would have been able to feel Momonga's deep feelings of remorse permeating the vastness of the Throne Room. But, in the depths of this melancholy, Momonga remembered something else.

 _"I guess we've_ _ **both**_ _atoned for our sins now, haven't we Tabula-san?"_ That thought, and the ironic realization that came with it, slowly brought a smile to Momonga's lips. Before long, the silent malaise that had been plaguing him was replaced by bouts of light-hearted chuckling, and even laughter.

By the time he had finished, the atmosphere in the room had somehow brightened with the lingering echoes of his voice. With fresh vigor, Momonga rose back up from the throne and righted himself into the visage of a proper ruler once again.

Eventually he'd face up to this mistake, but right now, he had things that he needed to do.

* * *

And lo, it is done! Now I have to get off my lazy ass and get started on the next chapter so I can have it out by the end of next month... Oh well. I've been feeling masochistic lately anyways.

I have my reservations about this, as no matter how many hours or days I spent pouring over every word, meticulously retyping the entire first chapter into something I could dare to call my own, I still felt like I was just committing plagiarism. In truth, I cannot help but feel that every letter of this chapter is a disappointment, no matter how much the logical part of my mind may tell me otherwise. Such is the writer's curse I suppose...

Self-loathing melodrama aside, please don't hesitate to share your opinions or point out any mistakes I've made. Your feedback is deeply appreciated, and to all of you who have read, followed and favorited this story so far, you have my gratitude. I can only hope that this first chapter has lived up to any expectations you may have had, and that I will continue to satisfy and- _Dare I say it? **(Dare! Dare!)**_ \- impress you as time goes on.

Before I go back into hiding for the next month, I'd like to mention another two fanfics and authors I stumbled across recently.

The first is **'Blood Trail of Alucard'** by **pta917** ; an Overlord fic starring a vampire OC that has come to the New World alongside Momonga. It is my great shame to admit that I overlooked this gem, finding it only hours after I posted the prologue to BTTB last week. It is also with great shame that I concede that I may wind up inadvertently ripping off elements of this story as I create my own due to the similar nature of our respective works. The saying 'great minds think alike' comes to mind, but even so I cannot shake these thoughts of incidental plagiarism.

The second one is a little different. Called **'Bloodman Luffy'** by one **Dslayernitro** , it is a One Piece fic revolving around the idea of Luffy eating an exceptionally powerful Logia fruit; the Chi Chi no Mi, or 'Blood-Blood Fruit'. While usually something so OP would not lend itself well to creating an interesting story, DSN has managed to overcome this handicap and create something brilliant.

Please show these two fine authors your love, as they deserve it far more than me.

 _"Well, well, well! So long! Farewell! Until we meet again!"_


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